e in confidence that Count Emerich and his sister were its chief
promoters in that district. They had a devoted assistant in Father
Cassimer. He had been their mother's confessor, and lived in the house
for five-and-thirty years, saying mass regularly in the parish church,
a pine-built edifice on the edge of the forest. Father Cassimer's hair
was like snow; but he was still erect, strong, and active. He said the
church could not spare him, and he would live to a hundred. In some
respects, the man did deserve a century, being a good Pole and a
worthy priest, notwithstanding one weakness which beset him, for
Father Cassimer took special delight in hunting. It was said that
once, when robed for mass, a wild boar chanced to stray past; whereon
the good priest mounted his horse, which was usually fastened to the
church-door, and started after the game in full canonicals. That was
in his youth; but Father Cassimer never denied the tale, and the
peasants who remembered it had no less confidence in his prayers, for
they knew he loved his country, and looked after the sick and poor.
The priest was my cousin's instructor in wood-craft, and the
boon-companion of my uncle; but scarcely had I got well acquainted
with him and the Lorenskis, when two Christmas visitors arrived at
their house.

They were a brother and sister, Russian nobles, known as Count
Theodore and Countess Juana. Their native place was St Petersburg, but
they had spent years in travelling over Europe; and though nobody
knew the extent of their estates, it was supposed to be great, for
they spared no expense, and always kept the best society. Latterly
they had been somehow attracted to Poland, and became so popular among
our country nobles, that they were invited from house to house, making
new friends wherever they went, for Russians though they were, they
wished well to our country, and, among their intimates, spoke of
liberty and justice with singular eloquence. Considering this, their
popularity was no wonder. A handsomer or more accomplished pair I
never saw. Both were tall, fair, and graceful, with hair of a light
golden shade--the sister's descending almost to her feet when
unbraided, and the brother's clustering in rich curls about the brow.
They knew the dances of all nations, could play anything that was ever
invented, whether game or instrument, and talked in every tongue of
Europe, from Romaic to Swedish. Both could ride like Arabs. Count
Theodore was